Good Grief! A Tale of Two Tweens Blog

Mom's Stay-cation for One

By the time we got to the men's department, they were in a fit of giggles. I was just trying to buy some socks for my fifth grader, but the three tween boys I'd dragged to Target were more interested in the photos of half naked men on the underwear packages. They pointed and snickered while I pretended not to know them.

Next, they helped me pick out (the wrong) light bulbs for a lamp, and then they help me on choose some mascara: "How about the Incredulash, Mrs. Singer?" My sons and their friend were having a good time. I was beginning to wish I'd shopped alone.

"I have to get fish sticks before we leave," I told them.

"Oooh, fish sticks! Can I stay for dinner?" my make-up advisor asked. And then, somehow, I wound up with not just three, but four boys wrestling in the mud in my backyard while I heated up the fish sticks.

I am the hostess of the frat house for fourth graders. It's a job that I usually enjoy, largely because I am a 10-year-old boy trapped in a housewife's body. Water fight, anyone?

But sometimes I need a break from the pile of filthy shoes at my door and the Bionicle parts under my feet and the requests: "Mom! Bring the video camera! Drew and I have something funny to record." Sometimes I need a day or two off. Thanks to the Boy Scouts of America, that break came this weekend.

I tried not to be obnoxiously giddy as my husband packed his car full of sleeping bags on Friday night, but it was hard not to be excited. He was among a handful of parents heading up to Massachusetts to camp with a few dozen Cub Scouts on an unheated battleship, while I was staying home to lie on the couch and doze off while watching "Blue Lagoon," starring a 14-year-old Brooke Shields.

When he left Saturday morning with our sons, I sat up in bed and listened to...nothing. No fighting over the computer. No posse of boys at my front door. Nobody racing through the backyard on bikes or sleds. No stampede of boys, anywhere.

I'd just turned in the manuscript for the next book in my series, and I was free for the first time since I can't even remember. No kids, no work and no battleship tours. (Suckers.)

First, I cashed in a gift certificate for a massage, and then I went to lunch with my mother. When I came home, I zipped through all my Tivoed shows before attempting to find chick flicks that my house o' boys would never stand for. The next morning, I slept in and then went to the gym. It was like my very own "stay-cation" for one. By the time my family got home on Sunday afternoon, I was in a state of Jell-O-like relaxation.

But within a few hours, there were boys in my yard and Bionicles on my floor. And yet, I didn't care. I am the hostess of the frat house for fourth graders, after all - except when the Boy Scouts of America give me a weekend off.

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